FORE!
by Stealiana
Summary: (Armada setting) While Prime is out Ballroom Dancing, Megatron loses his patience and challenges Red Alert and Hot Shot to a game of golf to settle the war... (COMPLETE)
1. Chapter 1

FORE!

By: Stealiana

A\N: I do not own Transformers, and this uses the Armada characters. But trust me, you don't need to know a whole lot about Armada to get a laugh… I swear…

CHAPTER 1

"DING DING DING DING DING DING DI-!" Red Alert turns the buzzer on the kitchen counter off, sniffing the aroma wafting through the room.

"Hmm, delicious!" He carefully opens the oven door and peers inside. "Ahh, perfectly sugared and browned… HOT SHOT! Your cookies are ready!" He pulls out the cookies and wipes his hand on his pink frilly apron. Hot Shot runs into the kitchen, screeching to a halt.

Suddenly, without warning, the ground starts to rumble. Hot Shot gasps, his mouth already full of cookies. His eyes fill with fear, his arms instinctively protect his cookies.

"DECEPTICONS!"

The wall to the kitchen gives way as Megatron rumbles in, and his barrel turns in the direction of the two Autobots, Starscream following at his leader's heels.

"Hand over the cookies, Autobots!" Starscream demands.

"You idiot! Forget the cookies! We want the Minicons!" Megatron snarls.

"But, but sir! They're chocolate chip…" Starscream whimpers.

"SILENCE, YOU IMBECILE! I will not tolerate weakness! Now… Wait a minute… WHERE'S PRIME? Arrg… TRANSFORM!" He looms above the two Autobots, who both huddle to protect the cookies.

"DID I NOT SAY I DON'T WANT YOUR COOKIES?" With a single slap he sends the cookies flying, scattering them about the kitchen floor. Hot Shot instinctively cries out. Megatron leans in closer. "Do not make me ask again! WHERE IS PRIME?" Red Alert tears off his apron and throws it at Megatron.

"YOU BULLY! It wasn't enough that you had to burst into here when I was having a bonding moment with Hot Shot, but now you RUIN MY COOKIES! Oh, you should be ASHAMED of yourself!" Red Alert shakes his finger at Megatron's face. "Now you're going to be GROUNDED, mister, if you don't apologize to Hot Shot RIGHT NOW!"

Megatron cowers before Red Alert, before he mumbles a quick apology. Red Alert crosses his arms.

"That's better. Now, what do you want?" Starscream reaches out to pick up one of the cookies, but Megatron slaps his hand away. He leans forward, glaring at Hot Shot and Red Alert.

"Where is Prime? We have… business to discuss." Red Alert stamps his foot.

"Anything you have to say to him can wait! He's not here right now."

"Oh, he isn't, is he? Well, I'll just have to destroy you BOTH so he understands he should BE here when I STOP BY!"

Hot Shot finally musters up the courage to speak.

"He's at his ballroom dancing class. It'll be over at three." He picks up the cookie Starscream was trying to reach and munches on it defiantly. Starscream snarls as Hot Shot sticks out his tongue.

"BALLROOM DANCING TAKES PRIORITY OVER ME?" Megatron slams his fist into the wall. "THIS CANNOT BE TOLERATED! I WANT THE MINICONS AND I WANT THEM NOW!"

"PATIENCE, young man, PATIENCE! I swear, children these days…" Red Alert shakes his head, tapping his foot with disapproval. Megatron snarls.

"THAT'S IT! I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!" He cackles evilly. "You cannot survive a round of Rock, Paper, Scissors, now CAN YOU! BWAHHAHAHAHAHAAAA!" Red Alert frowns.

"I will not participate in such childish activities! If you're going to keep this up, I'm not going to bake for you for a WEEK! A WHOLE WEEK!"

Hot Shot sits next to the pile of cookies he had gathered while the two argue. He turns on the TV, looking for some quality cartoons to accompany his treats. Starscream tries to sneak over and steal some, but Megatron kicks him back.

"Fine then," Megatron says. "How about… uh…" Hot Shot surfs past the PGA Tournament. "A ROUND OF GOLF!" The Leader of the Decepticons cackles deviously. Red Alert merely beams.

"GOLF? I'd love a round! Let me get my knickers!" He drags Hot Shot away from the TV. "Come on, Hot Shot, we've got to hit the links!"

"BUT MY COOKIES-!" Hot Shot whines, as Red Alert drags him to gather their clubs. Starscream tries to move towards the pile, but Megatron holds him back.

"Starscream… do you know how to play golf?"

"Uhh… no sir…"

"INCOMPETENCE! FOR THAT YOU CAN'T HAVE COOKIES FOR A WHOLE MONTH!"

"MEGATRON! THAT'S HARDLY FAIR!"

"Of course it isn't. Now GET ME SOME CLUBS!"

"YES SIR!" As Starscream flies off, he grins. "I'm gonna kick your ass onto the fairway, buddy…"


	2. Chapter 2

FORE!

By: Stealiana

A\N: I do not own Transformers, and this uses the Armada characters. But trust me, you don't need to know a whole lot about Armada to get a laugh… I swear…

CHAPTER 2

Hot Shot pulls another cookie out of his Ziploc baggie, as he listens to Carlos finish explaining how to play.

"So, like, basically all you do, man, is just hit the ball with the club and it goes in the hole. It's a piece of cake, dude. Like, even my little sister could play."

Starscream finally shows up, a bag of human clubs in his hand. Megatron stares.

"That's the BEST you could FIND?" Starscream frowns.

"The Pro Shop is a rip-off! And they didn't sell anything bigger, anyway." He dumps the bag on the ground. Red Alert picks up a club and examines it.

"Wow, the all-new titanium hollowed shaft for the perfect tee shot!" Starscream snickers.

"Yea, I'm sure Red Alert knows all about hollow shafts…" Megatron bursts out laughing. Red Alert throws the club at Starscream, hitting him right between his optics. Starscream falls to the ground, kicking and screaming. With a snarl, Megatron pulls back his fist.

"You'll pay -!" Carlos steps in-between holding his palms up.

"Whoa, dudes, not right now. You guys have a lot of holes to play, you know. Eighteen." Starscream rubs his forehead as he climbs back to his feet.

"I don't think Megatron can handle eighteen. He might get… worn out." Megatron glares at Starscream.

"What are you implying, Starscream? You don't think I have the STAMINA to do eighteen holes? Are you INSULTING ME, YOUR LEADER?"

"Of course not. Sir." Starscream smirks and turns. "Who goes first?"

Carlos scratches his head.

"Well, uh, I guess it doesn't matter, man. I mean, you're playing teams, right?" All the robots nod. "Well, then whichever dude scores better will count as the team's score for that hole." Starscream snickers.

"I think I score the best out of all of you. At least, with the ladies." He ducks as Megatron swings a fist in his direction. "But Red Alert scores all the points with the guys, right _Megatron_?"

Megatron lunges at Starscream's throat, screaming:

"I'm going to rearrange your circuits and you won't be scoring with ANYONE FOR A LONG TIME! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

Carlos whacks Megatron's foot with a golf club in an attempt to get his attention.

"YO MEGS!" After ten thwacks or so, Megatron finally turns around.

"Hrrmm?"

"You guys ready to start or what?" Megatron grudgingly stops beating Starscream and picks up his driver. Starscream smirks.

"You're holding it upside down." Megatron glares back at him.

"I was merely… examining it to be sure it was in top condition! Do I have to explain EVERYTHING to you? Fool…" Carlos grins as Red Alert waits patiently in his purple and red plaid knickers. Hot Shot turns his baggie upside down, trying to get any last crumbs. Carlos nods.

"Wicked cool. Okay then, so let's get this all straight, dudes. Both of you guys agree that whoever wins the game wins the Minicons, right?" All the Bots nod in unison. "Awesome! Then tee-off, guys!"


	3. Chapter 3

FORE!

By: Stealiana

CHAPTER 3

Hot Shot sits on the fairway and bursts out crying.

"IT'S NOT FAAAAAIR… WHY DOES MINE ALWAYS GO IN THE WATER?" Starscream claps his hands over his ears for the twentieth time.

"ErrrrrGH! SHUT UP, PUNK, OR I'LL DO IT FOR YOU!" Red Alert steps between the two, wielding a putter.

"Back off, Starscream! No one talks to Hot Shot that way!" He turns to the sobbing Autobot and rubs his back. "It's alright, Hot Shot, we're still winning… come on now, get up, I'll mix up a bowl of Cheerios for you when we get back to the base." Hot Shot wipes his sniffly nose.

"You mean the frosted kind?" Red Alert smiles.

"Sure, you can have the frosted ones." Megatron stamps his foot impatiently.

"GET ON WITH THE GAME, AUTOBOTS! This is only the fifth hole; I have a lot of game left! And when I strike, you won't know what hit you!" Starscream pulls out a tattered script.

"Uhm… Megatron, that's not the right line. I think the line you're quoting from is in the episode where you-"

"DO NOT CORRECT ME, STARSCREAM! When I want to quote a line, I WILL GET IT RIGHT! THAT WAS PURE COINCIDENCE THAT THEY SOUNDED SIMILAR!" Starscream smirks.

"What, did you use your script to wipe your ass? Is THAT why you can't read it anymore?" Hot Shot gags.

"EWWW, THAT'S NASTY!" He looks at Megatron. "You mean you still aren't potty-trained?" Megatron dives for Hot Shot, who screams and hides behind Red Alert.

"MOMMYYY!" Red Alert slaps Megatron across the face.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Megatron steps back, holding his cheek. Red Alert waves the putter at him threateningly, shaking furiously. "Are we going to finish this game or not?" Megatron backs off, muttering all the while. Red Alert turns his attention back to Hot Shot.

"Alright, Hot Shot, let's try again." Red Alert drops the ball on the fairway. "Now hold the club like this…" Red Alert stands behind Hot Shot, helping him steady the club. Starscream smirks.

"Are you jealous, Megatron?" Megatron charges at Starscream.

"Why you -!" He stops as he hears Hot Shot finally hit the ball. The four Bots stare as the ball rolls around on the green, before sliding into the hole.

"WOOHOO! YEA!" Hot Shot dances about the fairway. "I GOT A HOLE IN ONE! YAAAY!" Red Alert smiles.

"That's my boy!"

Starscream sighs with irritation.

"Yes, the idiot gets a hole in one… AFTER HE HIT IT IN THE WATER FIFTEEN TIMES!"

Megatron pouts.

"I haven't gotten a hole in one yet…"

"Oh will you shut up!"

"WHAT WAS THAT, STARSCREAM?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Good. Now move over, it's my turn…"


	4. Chapter 4

FORE!

By: Stealiana

CHAPTER 4

Carlos scratches his head, squinting at the score card and counting on his fingers.

"Uh… okay… well… after the first nine, the Decepticons are four over par, at.. uh… 38. And the Autobots are two under at… 32." Carlos grins. "Time for the back nine!" Megatron cackles.

"This will be the most glorious day in the history of the Decepticons! I am already winning and I shall proceed to DISASSEMBLE YOU ALL!"

"Uh, dude, like, you're losing, wickedly, man." Carlos looks at Megatron, bewildered. "Are you stupid? Didn't you know it's who has the lower score?" Megatron glares at Carlos and picks him up by his shirt.

"Are you saying that I'm WRONG? Are you DISAGREEING WITH ME? WHEN I SAY I AM WINNING, I AM WINNING!" Red Alert whacks Megatron with a putter.

"PUT THE BOY DOWN! This is a gentleman's sport, and you will ACT LIKE ONE as long as we are OUT HERE!" Megatron cringes and gently puts Carlos down, muttering to himself. After a moment, he looks around, slightly disoriented.

"Starscream?" The three transformers and Carlos look around, the course eerily silent.

"Starscream?" Megatron repeats, his impatience growing. Carlos shrugs.

"Like, you guys can't just leave you know. I mean, seriously, that's like, forfeiting, dude. That bites." Megatron raises his hand to whack Carlos, but is tackled by Hot Shot.

"I WANNA PLAY AND I WANNA PLAY NOW!" He sits down and pouts. Megatron growls.

"STARSCREAM! I DEMAND THAT YOU SHOW YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY! When I get my hands on him I will rewrite his programming…" Megatron fumes, his fists clenching.

"STAR-"

"STOP SHOUTING! I'm right here, you bucket of bolts!" Megatron turns around, completely confused.

"How could you be over there when I have been here all along? You weren't there before, and if you weren't there before and I didn't see you go over to there and I've been standing here not moving an inch, it's impossible that you could be over there without me noticing and so you couldn't have been there all along if I've been here, so WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Starscream stares at Megatron like he's lost his mind.

"Uh… yea. Whatever." Starscream sits down in the tee box, waiting for Red Alert and Megatron to shoot. Hot Shot, always the curious one, creeps over to where Starscream is sitting.

"Screeeeeech, 'you little jerk, I'll get you for that!' vroooom! Crash! 'oh no! someone help me!' 'I'll save you!' 'Oh, you're my HERO!' vrooooom!"

Hot Shot watches Starscream.

"Whatcha doin'?" Hot Shot asks.

"Shuddap," was Starscream's only reply.

"Can I play?"

"NO!"

"Why not?"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Hot Shot starts to cry.

"HE WON'T LET ME PLAAAY!" Red Alert throws down his driver after shanking a shot, thanks to the disruption.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, WHAT IS GOING ON!" He demands, storming to where the two were now fighting over something. "Megatron, you really need to teach Starscream some manners!"

"I need to teach HIM manners? I didn't drag a stupid Bot onto the course who's barely off the assembly line! Don't tell me I need to teach HIM manners when you've spoiled that moron ROTTEN!"

"I have done no such thing and I will not tolerate you speaking of Hot Shot that way!" Red Alert gets between the two robots and separates them.

"What in the world are you fighting over?" He picks up a tiny white vehicle, with no doors. "What is this thing?" Starscream snorts.

"You mean you've never saw GOLF CARTS before? Jeez, you must have had a rotten childhood. Explains a lot." Red Alert chooses to ignore the snide remark and instead gives it to Hot Shot.

"There, now you boys share or else we're going straight home! And no dessert!" As soon as Red Alert turns his back, Starscream pokes Hot Shot.

"Ow…!" Hot Shot rubs his shoulder and while he is distracted, the Decepticon snatches back his precious golf cart.

"HE-Y!" The Autobot tackles Starscream, and the golf cart falls to the ground. In the ensuing struggle, a crunch is heard and the two wrestling bots stare at each other.

"You BROKE IT! YOU LITTLE PUNK! I'm gonna disassemble you now!" Megatron suddenly tears Starscream away from the battle.

"It's your shot, you under-programmed hunk of metal. Now SHOOT." He slams a driver into Starscream's hand, who glares at Hot Shot before taking his stance at the tee.

"I'll get you for that…"


	5. Chapter 5

FORE!

By: Stealiana

CHAPTER 5

Starscream yawns unceremoniously.

"Holy mother of Energon Cubes, what is TAKING YOU SO LONG?" Megatron's fist slams into the ground, leaving a rather large crater on the eighteenth green.

"Chill, dude! Like, I can't add double digits without a calculator, man!" Carlos attempts to defend himself. "So… 17… plus… 3… is…. Uhm…"

"20, moron." Starscream intercedes, his tone that of disgust. "Freakin kid…"

"Hey!" Red Alert whacks Starscream on the back of the head. "I will not tolerate such language!" Megatron scowls in Starscream's direction, quelling any continuation of the argument. All the Transformers sit silently, waiting for Carlos to finish counting…

"Okay! Got Hot Shot all totaled up… you're seven over par with an 83!" Hot Shot merely stares blankly back at Carlos.

"Is that good?" He asks, puzzled.

"Yea, dude! So rockin'!"

"HURRAY!" Hot Shot jumps up and proceeds to start his victory dance of the Hokey Pokey. "…You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around, that's what it's all abo-UUUUUUUT!" Hot Shot screams as he trips over Starscream's conveniently placed foot and falls into the pond to the left of the green, creating a tidal wave that engulfs Megatron.

"WHY YOU LITTLE BRAT! If I find that even so much as ONE of my circuits goes dead, you're gonna pay for this…!" The leader of the Decepticons fumes. Carlos keeps on adding.

"Okay… uhm…. Eighty…FIVE! That's for you, Megs. 85." Megatron pauses and suddenly his face cracks into a huge grin and he begins to laugh - softly at first, but ever increasing in volume. No one pays any attention as Carlos begins to add up Red Alert's score.

"Uh… 40… and 18… uhm… that makes… 58? And then… well, let's see…" Carlos' mumblings are now drowned out by Megatron's maniacal laughter.

"What's so funny?" Starscream demands.

"I WIN!" Megatron cackles. The others look confused.

"He hasn't even finished counting yet!" Red Alert argues. "Aren't your celebrations a bit premature?"

"I WIN!" Megatron repeats, a little more authoritatively. "My score is HIGHER THAN YOURS!"

"This is true." Starscream agrees, snickering as Hot Shot pulls himself out of the water. Red Alert rolls his eyes and sighs, as Carlos shouts in triumph.

"GOT IT! 79, man!" With a thumbs up and a cheesy grin, Carlos winks. "Way to be, dude!" Red Alert smiles triumphantly, turning to celebrate with Hot Shot.

"Together, that gives us a 162! I bet the Decepticons can't beat that!" Red Alert taunts. "I'm gonna bake a victory cake when we get back!"

"CAAAKE!" Hot Shot crows, mocking Starscream. The Decepticon merely glares back at the Autobot, ready to attack if provoked one more time.

"Dude, Starscream!" Carlos waves the scorecard around in a frenzy. "Whoa, man, you totally owned up the course! Only one over par with a 77!"

Megatron whacks Starscream in a fury.

"Ow!"

"YOU IDIOT!"

"What did I do?"

"HOW COULD YOU LOSE TO THE AUTOBOTS SO PITIFULLY?" Megatron lifts Starscream by the neck, ready to shake him till his wires disconnected. In vain, Starscream tries to explain that it was the LOWER score that won the tournament. Luckily for his programming, a girlish scream from Carlos ceases all plots of imminent death.

"This is impossible! You guys… TIED?"

The Autobots look at each other in dismay, while Megatron drops Starscream to look at the scorecard.

"Crap man!" Carlos pulls out his rulebook. "I dunno what to do if you guys tie!"

"Well, that's obvious!" Megatron snorts. "I WIN!"

"Oh will you shut up!" Red Alert pulls out his driver and solidly smacks Megatron in the back of the head. "I swear…"

"Uh oh, wait a minute guys." Carlos looks up, rather sheepishly. "I think I made a mistake."

"Hrmph!" Starscream muttered, rubbing his neck. "What else is new… all humans are MORONS!"

Carlos looks at Red Alert apologetically.

"Sorry, dude. I was supposed to take into account handicap."

"Handicap?" Red Alert looks confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, see, right here, it says: 'Subtract a players handicap from their total to figure out the total score.' And… uh… well, you're handicapped, man. I mean, dude, you only have one hand."

Red Alert looks thoughtfully at his left appliance.

"I suppose you're right."

"Yea, so like, I mean, I was thinking, since you only have one arm out of two, I should take away an extra stroke. Which gives you guys a 161 against their 162, meaning…" Carlos breaks into a hugely dorky grin.

"THE AUTOBOTS HAVE IT!" Megatron looks up from his scrutiny of the scorecard.

"WHAT? WE LOST BECAUSE HE'S A CRIPPLE?"

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?" Red Alert fumes, using his left appliance to slap Megatron across the face. "You say that again and I'm gonna open up a can of whoop-ass on your FACE!" Megatron and Red Alert glare at each other, the tension fairly visible in the air.

"I WILL NOT LOSE!" Megatron shouts. At that moment though, a huge Mac truck pulls up to the golf course, the rumbling attracting everyone's attention.

"TRANSFORM!"

"It's Prime!" Megatron hisses, his eyes narrow in anticipation.

Prime waves, making his way to where Red Alert is standing.

"I saw the note you left and headed over here as quickly as I could!" Red Alert grins.

"Don't worry, Optimus. We've got everything under control here."

"Oh, no it has nothing to do with that!" Prime laughs. "Although I'm glad to hear the Decepticons aren't giving you any trouble, the real reason I came was that my dancing instructor said that I was good enough to enter the Ballroom Dancing Competition on Moon Base 12!"

"REALLY? That's so wonderful!" Red Alert pats Prime on the shoulder. "Great job!"

"Well, there's just one problem!" Prime sighs. "I need a partner. And that's why I came. I was wondering if you could help me out, Red Alert."

"Ballroom dancing, huh?" The blue Autobot ponders this for a moment. "Sounds good to me! You'll do great!"

"Thanks, Red Alert! What say we all head back to the base now? It seems like you guys are done here…" Red Alert grabs Hot Shot by the hand and all three begin to make their way back. Carlos follows them, at last convincing Hot Shot to let him sit on his shoulder.

Megatron finally grabs Starscream by the neck again.

"I HAVE IT! GENIUS! Starscream, do you know what I'm thinking?"

"No… But I know I'm hoping you'll stop CHOKING ME!"

"Well," Megatron laughs maniacally. "We've lost today, but that doesn't mean we will surrender forever! I have another plan… since golf didn't work, we shall challenge them to BALLROOM DANCING!"

"WHAT?" Starscream protests. "Nu-uh, I am NOT doing that!"

"YOU WILL!" Megatron shakes him. "Who ELSE would be my partner!"

"What about Cyclonus? He looks WAY better in a dress than I do!"

"Hrm… you're right! Excellent suggestion, Starscream, I'm glad I thought of it." Megatron drops him.

"Now, get your sorry frame back to the base immediately! We have a great deal of planning to do…"

FIN

AUTHORS NOTE: A big thank you to everyone who reviewed my fic, you guys kept me from forgetting about this completely, even though I read it again and realized just how stupid the whole thing was XD! I left this ending in case I felt the urge to write a sequel - hehe, Megs vs. Prime, in Ballroom Dancing! You guys are the best!


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